


you're a sad sight, honey, but you look so cute

by AutumnOcean



Category: Cheers (TV)
Genre: Domesticity, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Oneshot, back on my bullshit and i was basically dared to write this so here ya go!, very slight angst but it's resolved don't worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:21:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26134129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnOcean/pseuds/AutumnOcean
Summary: He gently laid a hand on her right calf, just under the knee, and began his usual journey. Slowly down the leg, to the ankle, then back up to the knee. Slowly down to the ankle, up to the knee. Rinse. Repeat. The action was slightly different each night: a new lotion, maybe, or the prickly feeling of a hair missed while shaving. Fascinating. Sam had started this pattern a few months ago, and Lilith never objected. At the end of longer days at the research lab, she sank into the bed at his ministrations. Soothing, he supposed.
Relationships: Sam Malone/Lilith Sternin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	you're a sad sight, honey, but you look so cute

**Author's Note:**

> A few of my Twitter homies and I have always loved the idea of Sam/Lilith post Cheers canon - Frasier wasn't a super present father once he moved to Seattle. I believe that Sam would fit that role perfectly and him and Lilith would have the perfect, exclusive to each other but uncomplicated friends-with-bennies thing. You can image this happening any time between 1994-1998 or so in Boston/the CheersandFrasier verse but I couldn't be fucked to look up where this would fit in the timeline tbh, as I wrote this out within an hour. This goes out to Nyx, thanks and love you! Hope anyone clicking likes this! Title comes from the Billy Joel song I Don't Want To Be Alone, which fits Sam/Lilith PERFECTLY and which I do not own, please don't sue me Mr. Joel.

“Did Freddie go down okay?”

Lilith tilted her head, seeming to consider the question. Then, a slow, measured response. “We discussed the psychological basis for these ‘night terrors’, and I believe Frederick now has the mental capability to conquer them.” She blinked slowly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear as she did so, then returned to her open medical journal.

Sensing that there was nothing meaningful he could contribute to the conversation, Sam murmured agreement and went quiet. Lilith was lying on her stomach in a purple silk bathrobe, hair loose, all legs and curls. It never failed to puzzle him, why a woman with legs like this would keep them hidden under gray pantsuits. Dancer’s legs. He supposed it didn’t matter now - neither of them were sharing their bodies with anyone else. Still, it seemed wasteful. Criminal. 

He gently laid a hand on her right calf, just under the knee, and began his usual journey. Slowly down the leg, to the ankle, then back up to the knee. Slowly down to the ankle, up to the knee. Rinse. Repeat. The action was slightly different each night: a new lotion, maybe, or the prickly feeling of a hair missed while shaving. Fascinating. Sam had started this pattern a few months ago, and Lilith never objected. At the end of longer days at the research lab, she sank into the bed at his ministrations. Soothing, he supposed.

Slightly restless tonight but conscious of Lilith’s desire to read in silence, Sam cast his gaze to the bedside table beside his hip. Oh thank god, the sports section he had abandoned this morning in his rush to open Cheers. He wasn’t one to oversleep, but Lilith’s massage from the previous night had knocked him out cold. Honestly, whoever the student was who gave her the chiropractic journal with that new massage technique should get an award. He hadn’t gone to sleep feeling like that, loose, Jell-o pliable since he was in his twenties. Middle age was taking its toll, whether he liked to admit it or not. It had been worth oversleeping, even as he cursed and tripped over his own pants and nearly went out the door wearing two left shoes.

Sam gently plucked the paper up with his right hand, not pausing his left hand’s ceaseless stroke. He darted his gaze down once more, just looking. Amazing, he thought, how completely still she could be. He gently flipped the paper’s page and was drawn in by a profile on Mo Vaughn. They both read in silence for what could’ve been minutes or hours. Eventually though, the profile was read. Sam scanned the page with some anxiety. Nothing else of interest had happened, he figured. Well, now what?

He let the paper fall carelessly to the bedroom floor with a crinkling sound. Lilith flinched under his touch, then relaxed, continuing to read. Sam watched her gently turn a page with some level of fascination. Still, he searched for something, anything to occupy his unusually restless mind. What had happened at Cheers today, anyway?

“We’re getting in a new brand of vermouth,” is what Sam finally landed on. Lilith gently traced one finger along the spine of her journal, and murmured, confirming she had heard him. “Mmm”

“It’s German though, which is odd,” he plunged forward, pretending he hadn’t sensed her lack of interest in the subject. “It’s not like Germany is famous for their vermouth, though. I mean German beer, that’s famous. You like vermouth, right?”

“If it’s dry,” came her glib response.

“I think vermouth started in Italy. I’m not sure which part though-”

“Feeling loquacious tonight, Samuel?” She interrupted. There was no malice in her tone, only curiosity. Lilith had now abandoned the journal, and had closed it under her elegant hands. She turned, meeting his gaze. Waiting.

Sam wrinkled his nose. “You called me Samuel to get my goat. And uh.” He trailed off into silence.

Lilith simply raised an eyebrow, not acknowledging the idiom. “Talkative”, she elaborated without needing to be asked. At this point, she gently and gracefully rose, resettling in what Sam had, in grade school, called a criss cross applesauce position, facing Sam directly. Sam was slumped against the headboard, a pillow shoved behind his head. He sat up a bit straighter, suddenly self conscious.

“Is there something we should discuss?” Lilith prodded gently. Sam was never one for oversharing, but the way Lilith asked - free of judgement or mockery - helped lend him the words he couldn’t find with almost anyone else. 

“I didn’t want to bother you, and I know you’ve been slammed with that research paper,” Sam rambled, already feeling embarrassed and stupid, “It’s just been kind of lonely, Freddie and I miss ya, and well. We haven’t. It’s just, I miss the-” At this point he stopped short, having run out of steam.

“Sex?” Lilith queried, this time raising both eyebrows. “Sam-”

“It’s not even that,” Sam insisted. “Just, you know, holding each other watching some dumb late night movie, or putting on Freddie’s cartoons and whispering to each other through ‘em.”

Lilith’s face immediately softened. “I’m almost finished, and the editing should be a fairly swift process with our new interns handling some of the leg work. I promise that I’ll be home this coming weekend.” Her brow furrowed slightly, considering the options. “Do you have to be at the bar?”

Suddenly feeling warm and light, Sam shook his head furiously. “Carla can close, she’s been wanting extra shifts since her,” at this point, Sam employed air quotes, “‘new to her’ car broke down. Hell, Norm could close if he wanted to.”

“You don’t have enough back-stocked beer to risk leaving closing to Norman,” Lilith quipped, smiling slightly.

Sam chuckled, scratching his stomach. “You got me there.” He sat up, grinning. “So, Saturday night, you, me, the Fredster. Why don’t we show him an oldie, huh? Casablanca or something.”

“I suppose I’m not immune to romance.” Lilith stretched, cat-like, graceful, then yawned slightly. Sam blinked, realizing that now that his anxiety had disappeared, drowsiness had come to take its place. 

“Oh, I suppose you need to finish that journal. Sorry.” Sam grinned, bashful now.

Lilith met his gaze, smirked, and pushed the journal off the bed onto the floor. It landed with a tiny smacking sound, which filled up the quiet bedroom. “It can wait,” she declared.

“Then I believe it’s bedtime for Bonzo. Will you be joining me?” Sam, still grinning, pulled the covers back and smacked the patch of bed in front of her.

Uncharacteristically cheery, Lilith winked at him and untied her robe, letting it slide off to the floor. Sam wolf whistled at the black nightgown that was revealed. She threw a pillow at him.

Both of them turned off their respective bedside table’s lamps and slid under the covers, meeting in the middle of the mattress. Lilith curled herself around Sam’s back, gently scratching his bare chest before her hands retreated to his waist. Sam stretched, before yawning again and settling into Lilith’s arms. They both grew still. Sam felt himself begin to slip away, comforted by the now familiar feeling of being held, until the only sounds in the bedroom were two matching sets of breathing.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, drop a kudos or review and feed my fragile ego! xoxo


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